The Sake of Pain
by Nevermore22
Summary: A crash in a forest drops a certain lavender Guardian in terrible danger. Uses Archie-verse characters. Blood, torture, violence warnings.


Author Notes: Originally, this was just a PWPTorture fic I wrote for Katwarrior. With her permission, this has been posted up. ^^ Pretty much, I wrote it under what I define as 'pain for the sake of pain'. No real plot (hence, PWP) and no real reason for any of it to occur. However, me, being me, gave it a bit of a story regardless. Oh well. ^^;

I have no idea what the creatures in this story are. However, since this **was** inspired by several Lord of the Rings fanfics (most of which involved Legolas, for some reason), I suppose you can see 'em as whatever you want. Orcs, Urak-Hai, ogres.. It doesn't really matter. ^^;;

Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderhawk, the Brotherhood, or anything else mentioned in this fic. However, Kat **does** own a cute little Thunderhawk plushie. O.o

------------------------------

The Sake Of Pain 

            The small craft came down with the shattered cries of over a dozen broken trees. Debris littered the forest floor as the metal shell skidded along mud, grass and wood; as far as crashes went, the transport shuttle came down with little trouble.

            Silence followed, once the craft came to a stop; nearly three dozen feet of broken land was all that signaled that the landing was not planned. After several moments of unnatural stillness, a metal plate upon the side slid open.

            Sky shaded boots landed upon the forest floor, attached to flesh covered in lavender fur. Dreadlocks covered in spikes framed a strong, albeit elderly, face; a scowl of annoyance crossed his features.

            Thunderhawk sighed, taking his first glimpse of the craft since taking off. It was simple engine trouble, likely from something as simple and mundane as leaving a light on where it shouldn't have. It would not have been difficult to repair, had he been near civilization. At least, he mused wryly, he hadn't been shot down.

As far as he understood, he was within a forest north of Mysterious Cat Country; there was no real danger from the citizens of that country, not since past animosity had been tossed aside in favor of a greater enemy, yet Thunderhawk still preferred not to confront them for aid. The less possibility of agitation, the better.

            The front panel of the craft had been quickly opened, an attempt to fix the craft himself, when the first real sign of danger presented itself. The forest had maintained silence; he had thought nothing of it, considering the crash landing. The silence made the loud crash of something large hitting a tree all the more apparent.

            Thunderhawk turned to stare; reflex more than anything else. Even with out witnessing what had created the noise, the feeling of danger maintained a hold. Internally, he mocked himself; for all he knew, it had simply been a bird falling from a branch, or a small animal fleeing from a predator. Keeping his abilities close at hand, several wary strides were taken into the forest.

            It came out of the forest before he got very far.

            For a moment, all the former Guardian was able to do was stare in shock. The creature, for he had no idea what it was, was terribly large; it stood at thrice his size. It lacked fur, had mottled black hair, and flesh the shade of the forest canopy.

            The creature noticed his presence, as well, but appeared to be as much shock as he; for several long seconds, both could simply stare at each other.

            Static began to spark along gloved fists, and a single step was made back; Thunderhawk intended to head back into the craft, damning pride to call for help, when the creature began to charge. All that he was able to do was dodge to the side; the monstrosity hit the side of the craft.

            Shock came in a second wave; the creature had not only managed to shake the craft that had deflected blasts of laser and hails of bullets, but had created a hole right through the hull.

            It was large, horribly strong, and it seemed intent on plowing a fist through his skull. Thunderhawk had the distinct impression that his chaos-birthed powers would do little against the beast. Nevertheless, there was little choice left then to try.

            The monster barked something in a harsh, guttural language he did not understand; it was sentient, then. He didn't know weather this was beneficial or not. An arch of electricity was sent the creatures' way, before Thunderhawk did the first thing that came to mind.

            He turned and ran.

            If he could maintain a steady pace for a short distance, he may be able to obtain a glide; he doubted that the creature could fly.

            However, that plan was quickly dashed; he had to skid to a literal halt. The creature had somehow gotten in front of him. Words he did not understand yet laced with confusion came from a fanged mouth.

            A different voice. A different creature.

            There were two of them, then. This revelation gave cause for alarm; one he may be able to outrun or flee from, two posed a deeper threat.

            Before he was able to think to run from the second monster, a hand larger than his skull gripped his arm. Struggle was brief and futile; despite the electricity charging through lavender fur and pale flesh, all it appeared to do was annoy the monstrosity holding him.

            "Let go!" Even as he released the half frightened demand, two more of the creatures approached. Thunderhawk stared, briefly, with eyes that began to take on fright, increasing his struggles as the realization dawned.

            There were three of them, now. This certainly could not end well.

            He still had no idea what they were, but he knew for certain now that they were violent. This seemed to prove itself, as a hand struck him across the back of his skull. A cry of shock and pain could not be repressed, before darkness loomed and unconsciousness came to pass.

A sharp pain upon his back awoke Thunderhawk from unconsciousness. Once his mind grasped the world around him, once he understood his current situation, a vehement obscenity could not be repressed.

            He was laying face down, wrists bound behind his back, in what may have been a cave; he was not yet sure, precisely, where the monsters had taken him. However, location, for the moment, did not truly matter. Location seldom matters when three monstrous creatures the like one has never seen before stand above you, grinning past fangs in what could only be described as malicious glee.

            Rusted, metal devices littered the ground around him. It took a brief moment to realize that the pain that had awoken him had been the long, leather whip one of the creatures held. It was then that Thunderhawk understood why he had been taken alive by creatures intended for obvious death.

            He had been taken for sport. The first words that came to mind passed from his lips in unrestrained horror.

            "Oh, crap."

            The whip came down with a sudden ferocity that it took the former Guardian by surprise; he cried out in shock more than pain. However, as the second blow came, followed by a third and then a fourth, screams could not be repressed.

            His back arched with each painful strike. The blood began to flow, and he could feel it pool around his body. The other creatures – what they were, he still did not know – began to laugh at what likely passed as their entertainment.

            After blow after blow came upon his back, he lost track of the world around him; all he saw was red upon black, crying out in pain. He wondered, briefly, if the rest of the Brotherhood, back upon Angel Island, even knew his shuttle had crashed.

            Suddenly, but not soon enough, the blows slowed and stopped. However, the pain remained, if remotely numbed, and movement was not wished in any form.

            Words he did not understand passed above him; thick, harsh, guttural and violent. Thunderhawk tried to look around, to see what could possibly be happening now past vision blurred with pain-birthed tears; this was the last place he wished to die.

            The rusted devices were picked up and tossed aside as the creatures debated; it took the lavender echidna a moment to understand. They were arguing, debating, what to do next to him. Static began to spark in his hands as he quaked in fear.

            Suddenly, his hands were unbound; one of the creatures snapped the rope with ease. He tried to use this to his advantage, tried to send a shock towards the monsters holding him captive, only to have his arm gripped with painful force.

            For a brief moment, nothing happened; Thunderhawk stared at the creature in fear. It stared back, a dark grin that bared fangs. The impossibly large hand gave a sudden twist.

            He heard it before he saw it, and saw it before he felt it; a scream of complete agony escaped the former Guardian, as the bone in his arm broke free from the skin. The creatures laughed at this, as blood gushed as if a waterfall, meeting the lake already upon the floor. Thunderhawk tried to free himself, actions taken solely upon the animalistic instinct to flee from the pain.

            The monsters laughed again; the one inflicting the pain simply twisted again. This time, the bone simply shattered.

            Somehow, he heard their voices speak in undisguised joy beyond his own screams. Through blurred vision, he saw one toss what appeared to be a knife to another. The creature on the receiving end of the trade grabbed at his skull.

            Despite the nearly overwhelming agony, rational survived; he did not want to die here. At least, not yet. He struggled still, but it did nothing to help him, not with one still holding his shattered arm. The monster with the blade grabbed hold of four of his dreadlocks; the blade swung at flesh.

            The screams from one injury joined with the screams of the second; new rivers of blood were formed, flowing in rivulets down the back and side of his face. His dreadlocks fell around him, twitching with still living nerves.

            There had been no warning, as there had been with the rest of the torture, when his legs were shattered in a sudden blow; he screamed anew, attempting to see through crimson tainted vision the source of this new pain. One of the monsters held a club larger than his entire body. There was still no success in his attempts to pull away and stop what was happening, and there was no success to stop the monster from bringing the club down for a second blow.

            His voice had been blown past what it should have been, and it hurt to keep screaming; however, it was unavoidable. Thunderhawk, past the screams and cries, began to beg, nearly incoherent, for the creatures to stop.

            One of the monsters took advantage of the babble; between words of anguish, a torn tip of a dreadlock was forced down his throat. He gagged; the cries were momentarily replaced with muffled wails, but he was nevertheless forced to swallow his own still bleeding flesh. This forced self-cannibalism seemed to amuse the cruel monsters anew; eventually, all the flesh that had been torn from his body had been forced within it.

            Nausea peaked within the pain riddled mind; blood and flesh returned to the surface in a shower of misery. The creatures simply laughed, paid it little heed, and continued their games.

            Coherency and sanity had long since fled the former Guardian; Thunderhawk attempted to curl what parts of his body he could still control into a fetal position, tried to protect himself. Animalistic desire for survival dictated, despite the situation.

            One of the monsters pulled his shattered, crimson soaked legs away, turning him to his enflamed back. He whimpered, howls and screams no longer able to exist; eyes widened at the long blade held in one large hand. The monster said something; even if he had been able to understand their speech, he would not have been able to find meaning now.

            The blade snaked along his unprotected flesh; he briefly wondered how he still had any blood left in his body. He shook, struggling still, but somehow knew he would not survive this; it was concreted when a fist larger than his gut pitted itself within his internal flesh.

            A scream of agony and death erupted, despite the raw throat; it tapered down to a shocking silence as the fist removed itself, clutching internal organs. The monsters laughed in glee, enjoying this final end to their sport.

            There was nothing left to scream, now; the pain had reached the pinnacle of death. The mind blanked, as instincts fled, and even the base animal desire within him was extinguished. The world around him began to fade; a numb cold crept along his body. He was prepared, now, for death.

            Just as the world fled from his existence, or perhaps the other way around, a crash sounded and a new scream filled the air.

-----------------------

Author Notes: Heh.. Eh. Yeah. This was originally gonna be a one-shot, but, hey, if people like it, I suppose I'll continue it. *shrug*

Viva la feedback! :D


End file.
